Surpassing Words
by verumficta
Summary: Merlin & Arthur. Arthur is reborn and everyone's been waiting.


Surpassing Words

Arthur cannot breathe; the cold is sinking so deep into his skin it feels apart of him, the numbing cold feels like a blanket, soothing and dark; he hears a scream, _feels _it in his soul and heart because it's his love's voice that screams his name.

His love?

The King of Albion tries to remember who this person was, who was responsible for such violent feelings, such strong emotions to come tearing to the surface at the mere thought of them. He tries to remember. He really does, but the cold is tugging at him again and his eye lids cannot resist anymore.

His eyes close.

He dreams of a familiar face, a loving smile, friendly banter and eyes so blue they surpassed all words.

The King of Albion sleeps and he dreams; but he still doesn't remember.

He never does.

Arthur's eyes snap open and he is comfortable, huddled in his own darkness; far from everything and anyone. _Isolated._ He wants to close his eyes again, to fall back down into that deeper darkness inside himself, when he feels a drop of water land his cheek.

That is all it takes for the beautiful numb illusion to break and shatter; leaving Arthur alone and cold in the darkness. The King of Albion reaches out and begins to tear at the cold snow that surrounds him, his fingers are cold; and soon they begin to bleed as sharp shards of jagged ice break his skin.

The dark crimson leaves a stain on the pure white snow, but Arthur just digs faster, harder, climbing upward; to the surface, to the light. _To his love_, a voice inside his heart whispers and a flash of blue flits behind his eyes; but he doesn't remember.

He can't.

The light blinds him at first, a sob escapes him; raw, yet merely an exhale of breath, his voice feels unused, broken.

How long has he been asleep?

Arthur shivers as the snowflakes landed on his naked body, he wants to sink back down into the ground again, into the darkness, and sleep. Fall into that seemingly endless, eternal slumber that numbed all feelings of pain and hurt; that erased all memories that would break him and his heart to pieces.

The once and future king stares up into the blue tinted sky, the snowflakes a curtain of white against the tall, dead trees that seemed to pierce the sky. Then he hears a melody, a song so beautiful it fills his heart and soul.

He feels almost warm as the eyes fill his vision again, this time accompanied with a flash of pink, parted lips and dark hair. He knows these images come with these feelings, he knows they come with a name.

But he can't remember.

The laughter rings throughout Arthur's world, and he stumbles forward, foot catching on something and he is sent sprawling to the ground, cold and broken again. He knows not where to go, but then the sound and the memories are back and Arthur wants nothing more than to catch them.

He doesn't want to be numb and cold anymore.

The King stumbles through the forest, his arms wrapped around himself to forage what little warmth he can. He just needs to get to him, his love; and he knows then he will forever be warm. He would be able to feel again.

The flurries of snow clouds his vision but the need, the pure _want _for those memories, his love propels him forward; and he soon finds himself in a marketplace, his feet are bleeding; staining the snow and paved stone streets with the violent, royal red.

He sees faces he recognizes; his knights dressed in different clothes, smiling friends and familiar faces. Someone covers him with a blanket, and he nods a thank you, fisting his trembling, bleeding hands in the white cloth, but he keeps walking forward; searching. _Searching _for his love.

Then he sees him.

The mop of dark hair.

Those blue eyes as they turn to face him slowly.

Those pale, parted lips in a gasp, that looked so soft; compared to his own torn by his teeth and the jagged frost.

"_Merlin."_

He remembers.

He stumbles forward, an arm stretched out; but he falls to his knees onto the frost. Merlin, his love, his friend, his protector, his _heart_ runs forward and is in front of him in seconds.

"Arthur." He whispers, again and again as he pulls his king's cold, shivering body to his own. Arthur is finally warm, he finally _feels. _He _remembers. _Arthur lifts his head to look into those eyes that surpass words and he draws himself to Merlin, his torn lips meeting his Merlin's soft, perfect ones.

His lover gasps into the kiss, and presses back, strong and insistent as applause and laughter erupt from around them, from their friends. "You remember this time, Arthur. You remember." Merlin's eyes fill with tears, and he catches them with his lips.

"Merlin." He whispers.

There are no other words.


End file.
